Divine Wrath
by Tristan Amaryllis
Summary: Merchants from Peterny, blinded by greed, are trying to unearth a power that they don’t have the slightest idea of how to control. And in doing so, they have awoken Luther’s final failsafe, his ultimate retribution. (FaytNel)
1. Prologue

In the last hour before dawn, the halls of Aquios Castle were quiet. Though it would not be long before the maids and the castle staff would begin to stir, would not be long at all before the castle would hum to life again to face down yet another day, right now there was only silence. A few guards could be seen haunting the corridors, moving in the shadows between torches like large armored spirits, but just as they resembled spirits they were _quiet_ like spirits as well, walking with a tentative care that had long since become habit to most of them. The loudest thing they ever did was occasionally cough or sneeze, and there were few enough of them that they did not even make a ruckus doing that. No, for all intents and purposes, the place was as quiet as a crypt. The castle was asleep.

All except for her. She was awake, and walking the halls herself. From the fluid vigor of her stride, no one would have guessed that she had not slept at all in nearly two days, yet it was true that she hadn't. By day she attended to her duties as she always had gathering information for the queen, running important errands, training her subordinates, and carrying out all the other tasks her position demanded of her and by night she went over everything else; inspecting every report from one of her informants (no matter how tedious and unimportant the information they had might seem to be), every letter the castle received that she could get her hands on, every stray scrap of paper, every request, every hint of the slightest bit of intrigue. She had always set some time aside for this sort of thing of course; a few hours after every workday. Since her father had died, it had fallen to her to manage affairs in his place, and she was not one to stint in her responsibilities. But it was more than a few hours a night now. Usually, it was at least five hours, and sometimes it was _all_ night. Where once she had spread the work out, now she lumped it all together. Any bit of information she got, she went over that very evening.

And recently, still often finding herself wide awake when all the work was finished, she had taken to poring over the records of the city's accounts as well, when she ran out of relevant things to do. There could be thieves in the system somewhere, after all, and while it was not her responsibility to deal with such, she was awake, and the problem was there, so why not try to solve it if she had nothing else to occupy her time with?

Only on this particular night, she had run out of _that_ too, and it was still not morning yet. Nor did she feel tired. _Physically_ tired perhaps, but her mind was still as active and sharp as it had been when she had woken up two days before, and the only way to make it rest now was to exhaust herself entirely. So now she strode through the castle, checking on security. In her mind, she was helping the guards with their tasks. But in actuality, she was merely trying to come up with another way to waste time.

"Lady Nel." One of the guards said dutifully to her, nodding his head and moving carefully aside for her as she passed. She nodded back, barely seeing him, and walked on.

Though she had only done this before been out at this time of night in the castle on a few occasions, no one seemed terribly surprised to see her now. After all, her work ethic was already the stuff of legends to most of the people in Aquaria. She was doing a bit more nowadays perhaps, but most people would simply attribute that to the changing of the times. In truth however, it had far more to do with her than it did with circumstances in the kingdom. Though the war with Airyglyph was over, little had actually changed. Her old routine would have handled today's affairs just as well as they had handled yesterday's. What her old routine _wouldn't_ handle was her. If she stopped working at her usual times, her mind would still be wide awake when she tried to go to bed, and her mind would give her no peace as long as it had the energy to do otherwise. It was constantly thinking, thinking about things she didn't _want_ to think about, chastising her in its shrill, nagging voice, and the only way to muffle that voice was with work. Layers and layers of work. Because when there was work, it didn't have time to dwell on anything else.

Two more guards greeted her as she passed by the Chapel. The doors were shut, and though she could have had them opened for her if she wanted, there was really no need. It would just be a needless inconvenience to the guardsmen, and it would likely be noisy. And with the entrance to the catacombs shut, there was no way to get into it from outside of the castle anyway. So instead she walked on.

She eventually came to the upper level of the of the castle. There were no torches on the walls here; the skylights in the roof allowed more than enough moonlight in to illuminate the halls as brightly as anyone could have wished. It was better than the torches in fact, as at least one of the three moons generally lit the place nearly as bright as day (a rather cloudy, often orange day, but day nonetheless). And Nel was struck every time she came at the almost ethereal beauty the castle's upper level had at night. The walls glowed amber and silver and blue with the phases of the moons, the plants that had been lined along the walls took on a hazy, ghostly cast in the pale light, and the marble floors reflected the stars almost like a mirror, sometimes giving the impression of being suspended out in space, and at other times giving the impression that one was walking along a pathway strewn with glittering jewels. She often envied the queen for having her chambers on this floor, but of course, it was absurd to envy the queen for something like that, and she always pushed the thought out before it could really even fully manifest itself. This time was no different. There were four guards near the entrance to the throne room and several more inside it, to be sure and they all bristled in unison when they saw her coming.

"Business with Her Majesty at this hour, Lady Nel?" One of them asked her as she approached.

"No." Nel said, almost conversationally, "I just…couldn't sleep. That's all." _Or wouldn't_. _Or_ won't.

One of them laughed at that for some reason, but otherwise, they bothered her no more than any of the others had. She continued toward the other end of the great hall, actually feeling slightly better for having come up here. Her gaze dropped to the floor, and, ridiculously and without thinking, she started trying to step on some of the stars' reflections as she went. She had done that as a little girl, she recalled. She had made a game out of it. Nel no longer remembered what the point had been, but it had been fun such simple, stupid, pointless fun whatever it was, and she found herself half-playing it again as she walked. She forced herself to stop immediately when she caught herself of course, but she was nearly to the stairs already before she did that. Half-tempted to be ashamed of herself, and half-tempted to laugh, she braced herself and leaned against a wall, and then, unthinkingly, looked up at the starry night sky through the glass roof

and that was all it took to bring on all the thoughts she had been working so hard to keep at bay. The thoughts of her friends, where they were now, what they were doing. Cliff with his ego, Maria with her iron will, Mirage with her genial pretentiousness, Fayt…

Nel shook her head, as if to somehow knock the thoughts out. It didn't work half so well as simply forcing her thoughts back into oblivion by force of will clearing her mind, as her training had taught her to do so very well but reflex forced her do it anyhow.

Now wasn't the time to be thinking of such things. In fact, no time was the time to be thinking of such things. Her friends were gone, gone back to their own worlds, to their own lives, nothing but memories to her now. Nostalgia was stupid and useless, and thinking would not will any of them back here. She would have liked them all to stay, but she understood why they could not, and so now it was better to just let them go, to forget about them and get on with her own life.

Only her thoughts would not allow that. And that vexed her to no end. It vexed her because Nel had not realized how attached she had become to her friends until their time together had come to an end. It vexed her because when the time to part came, she could still not bring herself to give much more than a casual word of farewell, even to people she trusted more than family as if to say that it didn't bother her at all that she might never see most of them again. It vexed her because it almost made her feel like Albel in retrospect, and it vexed her

_(because it had seemed like he might stay)_

because the world around her now seemed so small and confining, where once it had been bigger than she dared to imagine.

When the thoughts came unbidden, they made her feel as bad as she had back when the news of her father's death had come, before she had learned that absolutely drowning oneself in work was the ultimate panacea to thoughts that one did not want to have. Those times had been hell, and she had no great urge to go through them a second time.

After finally submerging the thoughts once again, clamping down on them with all the willpower she had, she finally made her way down the stairs, walking as if nothing had happened. Her course of the castle complete, she would return to her quarters. She might even lay down on the bed now, but she would not sleep. She had weathered another night, and soon enough she would come out of her room for another day of work, pretending for all the world to be refreshed. Very soon.

Outside, the sun was coming up.

* * *

_Although I'd really prefer to do away with my cumbersome, often lengthy author's notes, I feel that a few things need to be said about this:_

_First, I make a few assumptions about things in the game, primarily the issue of scope in Elicoor. I assume for instance, that the distance between cities in the game as well as the size of the cities themselves is symbolic rather than literal. Hence, cities become gigantic, and the landscape between them is generally sprawling and expansive. This might take a few things out of proportion from the way they were portrayed in the game, but since the alternative is that the entire continent of Gaitt is small enough to fit in my city, that the whole of the kingdom of Aquaria contains approximately two hundred citizens, and that the bustling commercial center of Peterny contains less than the average flea-market in a backwoods town, I think I made the right decision. In this I sort of just think of the game as making the story expedient; there's really no need to cover the five days (or whatever) of humdrum between Peterny and Aquios if nothing notable is happening, and it gives characters more than two or three days to get to know each other in the game's storyline. Because of my enlargement of the game's area, I have also added a few other random villages and settlements when and where I figured they would serve. A kingdom is hardly a kingdom with only three cities, I figure. As a side note, I _did_ keep Castle Aquaria at its meager two floors, but the floors are much bigger now (though that may not be apparent in the first few chapters)._

_Second is the issue of canon. This very hard for me (not that it isn't for everyone _else_ too…), because some of the situations that characters encounter in my story are different from anything that happened in the game, and consequently I have no precedent for knowing how they would act. I tried to keep them consistent of course, but since I spend a significant amount of time in their heads, where the game never even gets close to, and because I'm not that great at appraising my own work (except for the dialogue, which I'm pretty sure I have managed to fantastically screw up), I have no idea how well I managed it. This all just a really fancy, long-winded way of saying: if I messed someone up in some way, PLEASE tell me._

_And lastly we come to the matter of Fayt. The epilogue sort of suggests (especially if you get Mirage's ending) that Fayt essentially abandons everything about his old life the moment the game ends, and goes with anyone other than Sophia immediately, but this pretty much amounts to Fayt saying something along the lines of 'Oh well, mom doesn't _need_ to see me again. I'll leave it to Sophia to tell her that I decided to abandon her and everything else so that I could live on some remote medieval planet that she'll never be allowed to go to.' And Fayt just doesn't seem the type to do that. At least not to me. He would at least go to say goodbye. I say this mainly in case the initial appearance doesn't mesh with someone else's interpretation of the ending. Consider it my disclaimer._

_Next chapter: My biggest canon headache ('Am I exaggerating Nel's character? If so, how do I work around that? How _else_ would she act? etc.') until really late in the story. Plus alternating Nel/Clair POV. Also contains the first attempt at setting the stage for the actual plot, though it probably won't look like it._


	2. What Friends Are For

Well, I have to apologize beforehand, since this chapter is much longer than I had intended it to be, as it bears the brunt of my attempt to explain Nel's mental state which I had to do, or face being really OOC. I don't know if I failed anyhow, but there you go.

**Chapter One**

**What Friends Are For**

No matter how clever Nel thought she was, coming out of her room in the morning pretending to be fussing over tousled hair or garments that she just couldn't seem to untangle, Clair had known her for too long to be fooled. She could identify her friend's condition with barely an effort at all, but it did not take any familiarity to see the dark purple bags hanging under her eyes, looking from far away like some terrible eyeliner catastrophe. Nor did it take familiarity to see the redness in her eyes, or to catch the way she could sometimes not even articulate a correct sentence, or the way that her attention would occasionally wander right in the middle of a discussion. She had tried to be prudent about it up until now, had tried to pretend as though she hadn't noticed anything amiss everyone had their own private problems after all, and Nel's way of dealing with hers had always been a bit bizarre but the face she saw coming out of her friend's room this morning looked so hag-ridden that she could not bear to keep silent any longer.

"You've been up all night again, haven't you?" She said without pretext, worry crinkling her brows as Nel closed her door behind her. Her friend gave her an agitated, dismissive look.

"I had a lot to go over." She replied curtly.

Clair of course, had played these games with Nel too many times to let it go at that.

"Again?"

Nel crossed her arms. "I'm very busy."

Clair laughed, trying to make it sound as patronizing as she could. She didn't actually think anything was funny, but she knew it would anger Nel, and anger was the quickest and easiest way to make her honest, she had found (well, that, and double-teaming her with Rozaria, but with the latter married and off in Airyglyph now, that was no longer an option).

"That might work with some people, Nel," she said, "but I don't know where you got the idea that I would be one of them. We share the same workloads, you know. Our jobs are all but identical. If there was truly that much work to do, I would have seen some of it by now."

Her friend simply looked at her. Normally, Clair would have concluded that she had entered that 'irritated silence' phase, and that she simply needed to be prodded some more, but as she looked into Nel's eyes, she also saw that there was a good chance that her attention had drifted off again. Either that, or she was deep in reflection of something, and ignoring Clair altogether.

"What's wrong, Nel?" Her voice became more gentle, her tactic changing on a whim, a different stroke of the sword in the battle with the redhead, "Whatever it is, you can tell me. You _know_ you can tell me. I'll help however I can. That's what friends are for"

Her voice trailed off when Nel flinched at that.

From there, Clair's mind had only to turn over a few gears, and then she knew what the problem was.

_Still? _was the first thought that occurred to her, but naturally, it didn't get anywhere near coming out of her mouth. It had been more than two months since Cliff and Fayt and the others had last departed, after returning to drop off her father and Albel and Nel before they finally left to go back to their own homes. Two months, though Clair could swear that these strange troubles had only arisen within the last few weeks. If the problem had really been nagging at her this long…

"Do you want to talk about it?" She knew before even asking what the answer would be, but this was her friend, and every rule of friendship, and interaction in general, dictated that she ask it anyway. Besides, she did not know how else to approach the situation.

"No. I'm…I'm fine, Clair. Really." Nel tried a small smile, but it was obviously forced. Something that only someone who was either disastrously exhausted or utterly out of their wits could possibly think might pass for genuine. "Now…I have to go. Her Majesty will be up soon, and I'll need to be ready to see her when she is."

That was also something that only someone who was exhausted or witless could possibly think would pass for genuine: the Queen did not open court until well into midmorning, and any business that Nel (or any other Aquarian agent of sufficient rank) had was usually held until the afternoon, once all the day's problems had been sized up. Unless there was an emergency…and there was certainly no emergency right now. She let her go anyway however. She could use the time this would give her to come up with a better way of dealing with Nel's strange mood, of drawing her out. It was strange to see her like this. She had acted somewhat the same way over her father, but she had also been younger then, and less set in her ways; more willing to talk if someone else was willing to offer to listen. The niggling veneer of insouciance that was so much a part of her now had not existed back then. They trusted each other well enough, but if whatever thoughts she was having were so troubling that they kept her up at night, she didn't know how willing she would be to confide in her, even when her head was relatively clear.

It could be done of course you could maneuver Nel into doing just about anything if you knew what buttons to press but it would require a certain tact.

Then again, Clair had not been given command of the army in the war with Airyglyph for nothing.

First, she had a certain Queen to speak with. And unlike her friend, she _did_ know how to wheedle her way into an early audience.

* * *

Had something even moderately unfamiliar-looking been standing in the halls when she came out of her audience with the Queen, Nel probably would have killed it. She was certainly in that sort of mood.

_Her Majesty has spoken. You must send one of your subordinates. _Lasselle's words hounded her. His especially, though the Queen had not been any more reasonable; just less blunt. And her voice less grating on the nerves. In any case, both of them had made the point that she was not permitted to take the mission. And the indignity of it was like to choke her.

When they had first told her about the assignment some problem with merchants in Peterny her heart had skipped a beat. Here,_ here_ was something to take her mind off her troubles. All the things she had been doing since coming back to Elicoor had been trifling at best (even the recent events in Greeton had been little more than trivial; just a case of an old man and some young retainers dreaming up ambitious schemes that would almost certainly never be carried out, if the last two times they had done it were any indication), but this had really seemed like something with substance to it. Something important. Something that would spare her having to look through account books to pass the time.

But then when she had tried to accept the job, they had turned her down. Oh, they had made their little pretexts; the Queen had painted it over to look like she was merely trying to get Nel to share some work with her underlings, and Lasselle had tried to patronize her with some talk about taking a vacation, but it all boiled down to the same thing: they had turned her down. _They had turned her down_, and to Nel, who didn't have the slightest inking of just how haggard she actually looked, or that she was almost completely in the grips of a childish and uncharacteristic fit brought on by sleep deprivation or that Clair may or may not have been the one who had persuaded the Queen to suspend her duties temporarily that was almost a slap in the face.

She could do nothing about it however, _would_ do nothing about it, no matter how senseless and violent her lack of sleep made her, nothing but obey the Queen and send one of her subordinates, and then sit and brood about the injustice while she languished in her room. She didn't have to be happy about it though.

It was in that train of thought that she came to her room, and she was unsurprised to find Clair standing outside of her door waiting for her. The other woman still looked worried. And she picked up Nel's mood quickly; though her stride was not much different than it always was, it was obvious to anyone who really knew her that Nel was storming.

"Did something happen?" She asked.

Nel's answer came slowly. Not because she was trying to be rude, but because it took her that long to come up with a response that she wouldn't mind divulging. She was not feeling particularly creative however, so when she finally spoke, the answer was a simple:

"Not really."

But Clair just continued to fix her with that concerned stare, which made Nel feel absurdly guilty. And she was eventually moved to elaborate a little.

"At least nothing I didn't expect. I've been taking all the assignments myself the last few months, and leaving nothing to anyone else. I suppose it was only a matter of time before Her Majesty had to make me stop."

"She refused to let you have an assignment?"

"No." Nel crossed her arms, to illustrate just how unhappy it made her, "She suspended my duties. I'm supposed to choose someone under me to go to Peterny, but otherwise I'm out of a job for awhile."

Clair stood silently for several seconds, regarding her. It seemed to Nel that her friend was fighting off the urge to smile, but she wasn't sure.

"Well," she said finally, "I can't say I'm sorry to hear that. You need some time off."

Nel closed her eyes and gritted her teeth.

_Another lecture? Already? _She thought (amidst another thought of simply letting the comment slide, which she immediately disregarded) before saying: "What I need, Clair, is something to do. Working is the only way I can relax now. I tried to tell that to Her Majesty, but she wouldn't listen."

"I can understand why!" She exclaimed without missing a beat, and it became instantly clear to Nel that her friend had rehearsed this line. Had probably rehearsed the entire conversation. Were she less occupied with her own thoughts, she might have also put it together that Clair had been the one responsible for the incident in the throne room, but as it was, she did not. "If working is the only way you can relax, then 'relaxing' is killing you! If you need something to do, why don't you try sleeping?"

She waited for several moments, and when Nel didn't respond, she continued.

"Have you even _looked _at yourself lately? You…you look half dead Nel! And you get so testy. Sometimes, it seems like you're just prowling around looking for fights. And I don't think we've had a conversation in the last week where you haven't snapped at me for something."

_It would help if you would stop provoking me. _Nel thought, but she kept the words inside. _Had_ she really been so terrible? She was aware that she had been a bit grumpier than usual, but she couldn't do much to stop it she never realized she was being grouchy when it was actually happening and it hadn't seemed like that big of a problem to her anyway. Any person working in the castle who couldn't handle an occasional cross comment…didn't really need to work in the castle, as far as she saw it. Yet it was a different matter if Clair was right.

_Am I really making everyone so miserable? _It would certainly explain why a lot of people seemed to be avoiding her nowadays. Even during training. And it would fit too. She never liked to involve other people in her problems, so it was only natural that she be involving _everybody_ in her problems.

"Am I really making everyone so miserable?" She asked Clair with a pained smile, echoing her thoughts.

Clair, ever one to soften hard words, answered quietly:

"You're being…difficult. It's not your fault but…"

…_but it is. _She finished in her mind. Nel shook her head and sighed.

"I'm sorry Clair."

"You don't need to apologize for anything." She replied, "We all have our moments."

There was another silence between them this time. Longer. Nel considered answering her friend with 'Yeah, just not as long or as bad as mine' several times, but decided there wasn't really much of a reason. Finally, when it became obvious that conversation was not about to resume, she told Clair that if there was nothing else and if Clair really felt so strongly that she should, she reiterated, as it would have seemed too placidly agreeable if she didn't she was going to go to her room to try and get some sleep.

In her room however, rather than trying to sleep, she paced instead. It was not for want of exhaustion; she was, if truth be told, at that point where she could essentially faint the moment she lied down. It was because…well, simply because, really. Exhaustion, and Clair, had dulled her anger a little bit, but it was still sharp enough to make her want to kick something. And she still had to pick someone to send on the Peterny mission. Everyone might be insisting that she take a break from things, but she doubted they would be any more pleased if she fell asleep for four days without naming anybody first. The actual choice of 'who' was not an especially difficult one. A dozen apt choices jumped to mind the very instant she began to consider, all of them currently in the castle or in town the last time she had checked. She could literally just assign the first one she found

_(assuming they don't run away when they see me coming)_

and be done with the matter. The only problem with that was that she didn't want to. For more than just her own personal grievances. Because what if something went wrong? Nel figured she could trust any of them with the mission itself, but what if something unexpected happened? What if something happened to_ them_? What if they were killed? How could she stand herself if she found out later that she had sent one of her agents to their death? The questions were hardly new; this was a nagging concern that _always_ plagued her when she was considering sending a subordinate out on an assignment, and it was one of the biggest reasons why she was so loathe to do so, but the questions carried even more weight now. She was already not in the most admirable state of mind. And ending up with someone's blood on her hands was not likely to improve it any.

_Apris, you're just being paranoid, Nel. _She told herself. _It's only _reconnaissance. _People go out on reconnaissance missions all the time and nothing happens to them._

And of course, that was true. But there were always exceptions, there were always things that could go wrong, and merchants specifically the rich ones were among the most cautious, careful, secretive souls you were ever going to find. Getting the specifics on whatever it was they were doing would most likely require following one of them around and spying. That was a game that could get someone killed. And if it did, it would be her fault. Even on her best day, that was not a prospect she enjoyed.

And then there was the problem…

Unbeknownst to her, Clair had come to the conclusion that Nel's dilemma was loneliness, the fact that she missed her offworlder friends. And while that was not entirely untrue she was after all, now the only person on Elicoor to whom she could relate that had entered 4D space and had everything she had ever known turned upside down, the only one who had seen that Apris and all the other gods and goddesses and beliefs that everything around her was built upon were nothing but programs run by men and women who were no more impressive than the runologists who toiled in the castle labs the actual problem was...the _lack_ that it all left. The fact that Fayt and Cliff and all the others were now well beyond her reach was enough to put her into a rather unhealthy mood, but they were not nearly all of it. The biggest problem she faced was what would come after thoughts of her friends if she allowed herself to indulge in them; the thoughts of the universe. The thoughts of her place, of the world in which she lived. She had always seen her work as important, but that had been when Elicoor was all she had known. Now she had been to the end of the universe and beyond, and what did it matter anymore if someone at court was an informant for somebody else when her whole world itself was nothing more than one molecule in one gear in the great clockwork of the universe? It all seemed so...so _insignificant_ now. So stupid. So _pointless_. She had always known that the universe was big, but she had never really comprehended _how_ big, and it was a hard thing to learn, to truly learn, that the world around you accounted for so little. That your own actions accounted for so little. Especially when, at least for awhile, they had meant so _much_. She had been a part in the destruction of Luther, a part in _saving_ the universe. And now she was nothing again.

_The lack of purpose._

It made her think of fairy tales, of all the wondrous stories she had been so fond of as a child, even of the legends of her own planet's history. It made her think about the people in those stories. What did they do after the story ended? How did they handle going back to their lives after the demon was banished or the great dragon slain, when they knew that the struggle was over, and that there was nothing left for them to fight? That they would have nothing but the bitter, tiresome normalcy of everyday life to return home to? The stories never went that far, Nel would realize. And that was the problem. She needed some guidance. Because her story didn't seem to want to end, even though there was nothing left to do in it. The evil wizard was slain, the song was over, and now the fair damsel was bored. So terribly, terribly bored.

It might have been easier for Nel to deal with had she had someone she could really confess all her thoughts to; someone who could perhaps lend her support, maybe even some sort of advice, a way of looking at things that she hadn't thought of, but there was no one. Adray was not the sort of person you confided deep thoughts in, and he seemed so utterly unconcerned by all that had happened that she doubted if he even understood the problem in the first place nor did she want to introduce him to it if he was indeed so lucky. And Albel…well, Albel was Albel. He would probably just laugh at her and call her weak. And he was hundreds of miles away besides. And telling anyone else would require telling them about 4D Space, telling them that everything they believed in was a lie, and she had no wish to subject anyone else to that. Even if it meant the stress killing her.

Even if it meant being alone in this.

* * *

The agent chosen was named Serafelle Alani. She was a petite woman from a small village near the Sanmite Steppe, west of Peterny, and she had come to Aquios to be trained eight years before, along with her brother. She was most proficient with longswords, though she also possessed ample skill with knives, and with the bow. The assessment of her had said that out of the twenty-eight people who had been trained with her, she had been ranked as both the best at fighting, and the best at infiltration, but that she was worthless as a commander, and that her runological abilities could be likened to those of the boots she wore. Consequently, aside from one scouting mission in Kirlsa, she had been largely inactive during the war with Airyglyph, stationed for most of it as a reserve guard in Peterny, trying to ferret out traitors and spies. She was eager to prove her mettle, and she knew the town well. She was perfect for the job.

Within an hour after having the task bestowed on her, Serafelle, or 'Sera', as she preferred to be called, was well out of the city, and on her way to Peterny. Clair had no idea how long it took her to get there, but from the impression of her she had gotten, she guessed that the woman probably ran the entire way.

At any rate, it was less than a week before messages from her started coming back to the castle. Normally, they would have gone to Nel, but Clair had managed to appropriate her workload for herself in the interest of letting her friend recuperate (and because the Shield Legion was not currently doing anything in particular that required her). The messages were inconsequential for the most part just the giddy enthusiasm of someone eager to please her superiors showing through. Nel had been little different on her own first assignment, and it had not been nearly so important. The inane letters would thin out over time, she knew.

On the ninth day however, Clair received a much different message from Serafelle. It was something Nel might have had an interest in, but the case being as it was, she did not go to her with it. Nel came out of her room only a few times every day or two now, but it was clear by her appearance when she did that she was not spending a terrible amount of the hours she spent in her quarters sleeping. She seemed to have gotten _slightly _better the bags under her eyes were less pronounced now, but they were still very much there but it would be weeks before she was at full health again, at the rate she was going. Considering her problem, it was the last kind of thing she needed right now.

She had planned to keep the secret for as long as she needed to, but the news spread quickly anyhow, and it was her father who eventually told for her. Clair had been enjoying an afternoon repose in her room, with tea and a book that she had taken from the library several months before and then neglected to return (or finish), when she had heard him coming, clopping down the halls like a horse in those clogs of his. She had thought that he had merely come to see her, so she had not bothered to rise Adray Lasbard was not a man who required an invitation to come barging into your room. So before she had been able to do anything, he had approached, thrown open Nel's door and yelled the news at what sounded like the top of his lungs.

A strange object had been seen in the sky over the Duggus Forest. That was what Clair had read in Serafelle's letter, but what Adray said was considerably different, and she wasn't sure how much of it he had heard, or how much he had simply presumed.

Master Fayt was back.

* * *

_Responses:_

_Lloyd (Irving) Aurion: I suppose I should apologize for not being more clear on what I meant. I didn't mean to imply (even though it's technically pretty much what I wrote) that Fayt would say goodbye to his mother. What I meant was that I didn't figure he'd just go 'Meh. I'll go somewhere else' and ignore her. As officially one-third of his motivation for the first part of the game, I thought he would at least want to visit her before he went careening off to some other place. And I agree about his not being the type to simply put everything away and return to his old life too._

_Everyone else (and Lloyd (Irving) Aurion as well): Thanks all around for the compliments/critiques/encouragement/whatever other terms apply. Any non-flame responses to my work just entirely make my day. Seriously. Sometimes even my week. And I honestly hope (and sometimes even pray, in a really roundabout sort of way) that I don't disappoint anyone at any point._

_Also, in my desire to begin the story with the opening line rather than with words from me, I neglected to do this last chapter. I'll amend here though. And we all know the drill, so let's say it together, shall we? 'I don't own Star Ocean, or any of the characters, themes, terms or locations therein.'_

_I DO however, domineeringly claim Serafelle Alani as my own staggeringly rich and original creation._


	3. Fayt

**Chapter Two**

**Fayt**

He recalled the first night he had spent in Arias. 'He was in Aquaria territory', he had been reassured. Safe haven. He could rest easy, they had told him. Yet as he had lay in the bed they had made up for him, he could scarcely remember a night he had felt more miserable. His time in the dungeons under Airyglyph Castle had not been fun by any means, but there had been no patina of security there either, no reassurances that the worst was over, no people around him who had acted as if all was right with the world, that he should be satisfied, that he had no right to feel unhappy. He had gotten to safety, but the safety had been so _empty_. His father, his mother, Sophia…they were all still millions of miles away, and he was alone. Alone on a planet in the middle of nowhere, with little hope of getting off. A planet full of violent, barbaric inhabitants who wanted to wring the secrets out of his head and use them to build killing machines. Cliff had been with him then, but at that time, he had only known the man for a week, and he was little comfort against a planet full of people threatening to kill him if he failed to do what they asked. Fayt clearly remembered thinking of how he would have literally given an arm and a leg to get off this planet, to leave and never be forced to see it or hear of it again.

Since then, even before he had even left the planet for the first time, his opinion of the place had greatly changed. He had learned that there was something inherently good about the people here that had not necessarily been so about the people of Earth. He had grown greatly fond of the planet during his time here, though he never truly knew why. It had started out as the most wretched place he had ever known, but eventually it had become almost like a second home.

And now he was back.

Peterny was a massive spread against the sky from far away, its marble retaining walls reaching more than thirty feet into the air. It was an apt first sight for him, and a stark contrast to the gleaming metal shells and cylinders that had greeted him on Cratous, on his return to 'civilized' habitation. The city looked like a fairly formidable fortress, like the ones he had seen in history books back in school, but in actuality it wasn't. The walls were thick, but the walkways on them hung too far out to be of any use against besiegers, meaning that they could not be defended if the city was attacked, and as such were basically nothing but decoration.

The city within seemed busy, even busier than he remembered it. His first impression upon passing under the walls was that the crowds had come out for some sort of parade, or celebration - how else could you explain all the people thronging the streets- but that notion didn't take long to dispel. Though the people were quite active, they did not seem to be in any particular fervor, as they might have been if they were waiting for something. Within fifteen minutes, he had deduced from listening to people talk that there was no festival, no parade, no celebration of any sort. This was just an ordinary day for the people here. Silently, as he weaved his way through the sea of bustling bodies, he wondered where they had all come from. Although the crowd was slightly irritating, it did wonders at keeping him from being recognized; with so many people mulling about, no one gave him a second look. And for that, he was glad.

Nearly a half hour down the city's main western road - it might have taken only half that long had he not needed to fight the crowd for every step he took - just outside of the town square, he came to the Front Door Inn. The woman at the front desk _did_ recognize him, but she did not act as if his being there was all that unusual. Fayt had been slightly worried that his claim to one of the perpetually reserved V.I.P. rooms that the Inn kept open would no longer be valid, since he no longer had any sort of business in Aquaria, but his worry turned out to be needless. All he had to do was pay for the room, and he was allowed into it with such alacrity that it was almost as if they had been expecting him from the start.

In his room, with the door shut, he immediately went to his window and looked out. He was not actually sure why; all he could really see were the crowds clogging the streets. The same crowd he had been a part of only a few minutes before. He had a vague thought to question what would happen on that street if a fire broke out, but it was not an especially powerful one. The foremost thought in his head was:

_I'm here_. and then:

_But what do I do now?_

And Fayt couldn't answer that question. He liked this place, but what _was_ he supposed to do? Obviously, visiting friends was pretty high on the list, but how was he supposed to go about doing that? Just show up at their doorstep? He didn't think any of them would turn him away, but…he would feel so _stupid_ doing something like that. In every scenario that he dreamed up in his head, he ended up seeing himself as a burden, seeing himself as that annoying neighbor that everyone has, who shows up at all the most inopportune times and then won't go away. Nel and Albel and Adray (among others) all had important jobs. What would he be getting in the way of by bothering them? What would he be getting in the way of by merely being _seen_ near one of the castles?

He let out a sigh, perplexed. It was so _hard_.

Had he simply stopped here, gotten off with the Elicoorians, had he not left again for somewhere else, it might not be a problem. To be sure, while he hadn't absolutely and specifically decided on Elicoor at that time, he had known even then that the visit to see his mother wouldn't be a long one. The thought of returning to his old life - or at least as near a facsimile as they could make of it at this point - seemed almost out of the question. Not that it had been bad, by any means. It had been fine, and he loved his mother, his old college friends, dribbling days away in the Battle Simulators. He had loved all of it. It just felt…too _small_ for him now. Sophia hadn't had a problem going back to the simple life, but then again, she had never been in the struggle by choice in the first place. Through most of it, she had merely been following him.

At any rate, he hadn't stopped here. He had left, and now he was back. And that changed things entirely.

Fayt ended up spending the rest of the day in his room, without ever coming out. He did the same the next day as well, for lack of any better ideas. On the third day though, he decided to venture into town. It was clear that nothing was going to come to him in his room; perhaps something would out in the open air. Maybe he would find something out.

He passed beneath the massive stone arch leading to the town square shortly after dawn, yet the place was already alive. Not as alive as it would be of course, come the afternoon, but still busy enough for him to walk through the place without being conspicuous. The food stands in the southernmost area of the square were already fully active, their makeshift stoves and ovens steaming, and the tables near them already nearly filled to capacity with people enjoying their breakfasts. The northern part of the square, where most of the trinkets and wares and concoctions that made the city famous were sold, was much less populated, looking almost deserted in comparison with only a few stocky Menodix peddlers hawking their merchandise, so he drifted toward the dining area. In order to avoid looking out of place, he bought some sort of vaguely sausage-looking thing - his scanner interpreted the word for it as sausage, but he was not actually sure that that was what it was - from a wizened old woman in a booth close to the church, and then sat down at an empty table. He didn't truly know what it was he was looking for here (_What solution am I supposed to find in a food court? _was a thought he had more than once), but already it was better than the hotel room. The air out here was nice…if not a bit smoky, with all the cookfires going. Better than the recycled stuff he had breathed on Earth and on Cratous at least, if nothing else. He sat back in the chair he was in, relaxing, trying to sort of melt into the scenery, become more part of it and less an observer, and he began to overhear words and sounds he had been deaf to immediately as he did.

Bells. The sound of bells coming from somewhere. And music being played on one of the nearby streets. And a man in the northern area of the square loudly telling all and sundry about a magical amulet that would protect them from any danger, an amulet that he just happened to be willing to sell for a very reasonable price. And…

And someone was coming up behind him.

He bolted to his feet, his right hand instinctively shooting behind his back for a sword that wasn't there. He had left it at the desk in the Inn, he remembered with irritation. Not that it mattered; already he could see that the person approaching him would not require a sword to deal with. It was only a waitress carrying a tray full of drinks. She flinched as he turned around, and nearly dropped the platter she held, but she managed to recover quickly enough to keep all but a bit of one glass from spilling. Fayt muttered an apology to her (three apologies, actually), took the partially spilled drink, and sat back down sullenly.

He was tense, he realized. Wound up. Or perhaps paranoid. Though he had not become conscious of it until now, he had felt this way since he had first entered the city. He hadn't realized it before, because he had had too much on his mind, but now the feeling was clear. It wasn't _strong_ – but it was clear. And it was the feeling that he was being watched. The feeling that he was being _followed_. He looked around quickly as that thought came into his mind, but of course, there was no one around that he could see who visibly seemed to be watching him. Not that that made him feel any better. It wouldn't be very hard for someone to hide from him in a place like this. There could be a dozen of them and he would never know it.

Of course, that would mean assuming that someone out there cared enough to detail a dozen people to spy on him. And even thinking that just seemed a bit egotistical. It was probably just paranoia. In fact, it was almost _surely_ just paranoia.

Fayt ended up staying in the food court for another half hour or so, before he finally picked up and left, leaving a few Fol on the table he had sat at (he had never actually found out whether or not the concept of 'tipping' existed on Elicoor, but he figured it was the least he could do for that incident with the drinks, even if it didn't) prior to returning to the Inn. He ended up leaving once more to roam the city, and for awhile entertained the notion of starting out for Aquios that afternoon, but evening found him back at the Inn again nonetheless. He was loathe to spend another night there – the place was eating through what little Elicoorian currency he had, and if truth be told, he was getting tired of it – but the idea of trying to leave at night was not very appealing. At any time. And it was even less so with the persisting feelings of anxiety he was suffering every time he went outside.

The next morning, divested of any lingering desire to remain in Peterny for a single moment longer by yet another expensive stay at the Front Door, he went to the market as early as he could, and bought all the supplies he figured he would need for the trip. His sense of perspective had perhaps been a bit skewed – he had never made the trip alone before, but he still bought enough for roughly four people, even being fully aware that there were at least two more towns along the road that he could stop at – but he managed to pass it off to himself as simply being 'careful'.

An hour after leaving his room, he was on the main northern street of Peterny, headed toward the town's exit. The streets were congested with people again, which meant another game of dodge for him as he tried to pick his way through them. He had found out in his time in town that much of the new crowd was due to the renewed relations with Airyglyph, which was a bit on the gratifying side for him in a roundabout way, but that didn't make it any less annoying to deal with.

On further inspection, the northern street seemed a lot more orderly than the others had been even with the tide of people on it; the stalls were all forced to the sides of the road, away from the center where they cluttered things up the worst. Walking was still difficult, but it was easier.

Fayt squeezed past a horde of people crowded around a garishly colored booth on the right side of the street, passing one of the sets of standing stone obelisks that had been set into the cobbles, effectively marking the halfway point from the town square to the northern exit of the city. Easier, he thought, but no less loud. Being on any large street in Peterny now was like being in a huge auditorium crowded with people who would simply not shut up.

As such, he was not exactly sure how he heard it. He could barely even hear his own thoughts, so hearing anyone else should have been utterly impossible. But somehow he did. The voice was not only audible but _clear_, clear as a bell ringing in the middle of a silent, deserted churchyard, and it came from behind him.

"And where do you think _you're_ going?" It said simply, tersely.

Fayt's first thought was: _'Albel?'_, because the curt simplicity of it sounded just like him, but he had deduced even before beginning to turn around that it wasn't Albel. When he finally did turn, he saw her, leaning casually against one of the pillars.

"Nel?" He said in surprise. Her face seemed to change as he did, to soften slightly, as if she had been somehow worried that he would no longer know who she was. He wondered for a moment, then took a double take, noticed her gaunt features and puffy red eyes, and before he could stop himself, blurted: "Wow, you look terrible."

Her face hardened again, making him inwardly grimace at his own eloquence.

"No, no, I didn't mean it _that_ way." He said quickly. "I just meant…you're…you look tired is all."

She said nothing for some time; just stared at him, her eyes stabbing like knives. Fayt became afraid that she was going to stay like that forever, but finally, she straightened up and responded.

"Clair says so too."

He thought it might be good to remain prudently silent for awhile, but he was eager to change the subject.

"How did you find me anyway?" He asked. The question itself was genuine – it seemed unlikely that this could be a coincidence, and he had not been here that long – but he added much more curiosity to his voice than he actually felt when he asked it. If he could get her mind off of that little remark…

She smiled a little at the question, her face taking on a look of vague bemusement. "My agents found you. Or did you really think you could stay at the Inn that I showed you without me finding out about it?"

He took the opportunity for distraction.

"You mean you have someone working for you there?"

Nel took a few moments playing absently with the ends of her scarf.

"Not in the Inn." She answered. The answer was curt and matter-of-fact, but Nel was _always_ that way, so it gave him a bit of hope. "But I have a cook in the guild across the street who watches the Inn, if that makes any difference." Her eyes spared a quick, casual sweep of the surroundings as she said that, to make sure no one else was within earshot. Then they fixed on him again, her arms uncrossed and went to her hips. "Actually, the gate guards were the ones who sent word of you to the castle first. Everyone agreed that you should be brought to Aquios, but Clair and Magistrate Lasselle thought you would come straight there on your own, so no one was ordered to escort you."

_Brought to Aquios_. He thought. That was a nice way of saying it. It left out the underlying implication: _Whether you like it or not_. Fayt reflected that it had not taken long at all for him to stir things up, though he had no idea what the problem could be now.

"Then why are _you _here?"

Nel shrugged. "To escort you to Aquios, of course. Just…unofficially."

"Why do I_ need _to be brought to Aquios anyway?" He said, feigning discomfiture.

"Because you're in danger if you stay here." She answered. "Don't think that we're the only ones who know you're back. If we've found out, you can be sure that certain people in this city have found out too. And I don't know how they'll take to your being here right now."

"You mean there's a problem?"

"You might say that. I have an agent here in Peterny investigating, and by the way she talks, you would think the world was ending." Nel smirked. "She told me she wanted to ask you to help her fix it."

Fayt couldn't help but smile at that.

All at once, Nel's smile was gone, and she was all business again. "But she didn't. And that's lucky for us. She would have blown her cover, and you wouldn't have been able to help her anyway."

"Thanks."

"That wasn't a shot at your abilities." She cocked her head. "You of all people should know that. It's just…you don't know how big your reputation has become here. She wouldn't have been asking for _your_ help. She would have been asking for help from Ronaldo Dyne the Second."

"I'm that great, huh?"

"If you don't believe me, just listen to some of the stories about you. I can guarantee you'll hear some of them if you plan on staying for any length of time." He got the feeling she was on the verge of asking_ 'Do you?'_, but she merely shifted and then continued. "But that's for later, and it's beside the point. Right now, I want you out of this city. I don't like the idea of standing out here in the open like this. Someone is bound to recognize us."

Fayt didn't actually think that would be an issue – they were hidden by the obelisk on two sides, and by stalls on another – but he did not want to cause her any unnecessary trouble by trying to debate that with her. Arguing with a determined Nel was much like arguing with a particularly thick wall, he had found; not really worth the trouble, since you weren't going to get anywhere anyway. And with her in the state she was in, it would likely be even worse.

_The state she's in. _That was a bitter spot for him. She looked exhausted. Completely and utterly exhausted. The first conclusion he had come to was that it was entirely his fault that she was like this – that her coming here to see him was what had done this to her. But after a few more looks, it was plain that it wasn't. The delicate purple on her eyelids was too deeply set to have been recent, and she could not have worked up the haggardness in her features since he had been here if she had known the very moment he arrived. But that only made him feel worse: she had come from Aquios to see him. _Already_ in a bad condition. It made him feel terrible, as a matter of fact. It made him feel like exactly what he had seen himself as in all the daydreams he had had:

A burden.

* * *

Nel did not know why he insisted on being coy.

'_Why do I need to go to Aquios anyway?' _He had said in tones that suggested it was some sort of terrible inconvenience for him. Yet he had been on the northern road when she had found him; on the road _leading_ to Aquios. And since she didn't figure he knew of anywhere else to go along the way, where else could he have been going? It confused her. But like most trivial things that did that, she merely let it go. Perhaps it was some sort of custom on his home planet, and circumstances had simply been preventing him from practicing it until now. She didn't know. And really, it didn't matter.

In truth, it was enough to simply see him here. Like Clair and Lasselle, she had believed he would come straight to Aquios without delay, so when she had set out, it had been with the intention of meeting him on the road. But she hadn't, and that had put her on edge. In all the villages she passed through on the way, her inquiries had turned up nothing. No one had seen him at all, even in passing. And the closer she came to Peterny, the more her worry intensified. Because _no_ village had seen him, and she found it hard to believe that he could have come through them all without being noticed. It had eventually led her to darker thoughts. Scary thoughts. Had he been kidnapped? Had he gotten lost in the wilderness? Had he left the planet again?

Was he dead?

She had tried to tell herself that she was merely being paranoid. Fayt was strong. Gifted. As capable of handling himself as anyone she had ever met. But he was also rash, wasn't he? Apt to stick his nose into places where it didn't belong at the drop of a hat. And with the problems in Peterny, there were plenty of such places, weren't there? In the end, fear had overcome reason, and the worry eventually became like some great, terrible cavity in her brain that pulsed and throbbed with every step, every heartbeat.

The worry had grown so strong in fact, that by the time she got to Peterny it had become a certainty, and she had already been planning how she would take revenge on whoever had done it. She had arranged a clandestine meeting with Serafelle to ascertain how he had died, and to her surprise the young woman had told her that Fayt was fine; that he had been in the city the entire time, and that he had actually been staying in the very same Inn Nel had taken him to on his first visit here. The woman who handled registrations at the Front Door had given him the room that Nel herself would have used if she had gone there, because she had apparently been under the impression that Fayt was still working for the Queen. By the time Sera had finished giving her the details about him, she had been so inwardly humiliated at her own childishness that she had wanted little more than to go dig a really deep hole and crawl into it for a couple of years. She had gotten over it quickly of course – she had not shared her thoughts with anyone else, and it was neither the first nor the worst time she had given into paranoia. After asking after the state of affairs with the merchants, which was done mainly to dispel any thoughts in her subordinate's head that Fayt was actually the reason she had come here, since she was still technically on leave, she had departed.

It made her feel strangely mollified to learn that he was operating here on Elicoor in what was essentially the way he had learned from her. It also irritated her considerably that he was still in the city, both because it was dangerous, and because…well, _because_. _What's in Peterny that's so special? _She had thought at one point, a trifle more crossly than she had a right to.

Most of all though, it made her feel relieved. Relieved to hear that he was alright. That he hadn't gotten himself killed like the impulsive little monster he was. She had been on her way to the Inn to see him, perhaps to even _surprise_ him if a choice opportunity happened to present itself, when she had seen him coming up the street toward her. At first she had thought that he was actually coming toward _her_, and she wondered how he had known she was here, before it struck her that this was the main northern road; the road that led to Aquios. She did not know what had possessed her to hide behind the obelisk and wait for him to pass, but she wished she could have come up with a more rousing greeting for him. 'And where do you think you're going?' seemed so uninspired that it almost hurt to say it. It rankled her terribly that she could still not bring herself to put more feeling into the welcome, even with that infernal goodbye from the Diplo hanging over her head, but no amount of chiding could make her greet him any other way. Maybe if the situation had been different, she told herself, she might have said something a little better – or less callous, at any rate. But greeting him on the street like this with anything but the most casual of words seemed to her almost the verbal equivalent of flinging herself at him, no matter how innocent her intentions might have been.

And besides, the middle of a city that could be potentially full of turncoats – if Serafelle's reports could be believed – wasn't really the place for getting emotional anyway, was it? Though most of it had been unconscious, she had spent a lot of time in Peterny looking over her shoulder. No matter how much she reassured herself, or how many measures she took to foil any possible tails, she could not get rid of the feeling that something was breathing down the back of her neck. If she wanted to say something meaningful to him, she could always do it after they left. On the road, after her anxiety had lessened. There would always be tomorrow.

It was that night that she had the first opportunity. She had whittled away some time by telling him a few of the stories about him she had picked up from people on the streets, and she got another hour or so out of filling him in on how all the people he knew on Elicoor had been doing since he had left (though she neatly edited out the bits that might have cast her in a less than admirable light). He reciprocated by saying a few things about his family along the way, but for the most part, he left the burden of conversation to her.

Finally, they arrived at the small town of Hamelin, a tiny village roughly twelve miles from Peterny's walls. The 'Inn' in the town was really just the house of an old couple who allowed other people to use their two spare rooms in return for money, but it was the best they were going to do, and Fayt didn't complain. She rather liked the couple herself; they were amiable and they had always given her sweets when she had been small, on the occasions she had stayed in this village with her father. With all her ideas for conversation exhausted, they had lapsed into a companionable silence nearly a half-hour before, and she had expected that to endure until morning, but just as she had been ready to go into her room, he had spoken.

"Nel?" He said tentatively. He spoke so softly that she actually passed the sound off as her own breath at first. She turned around only by happenstance, and saw him outlined in the doorway to his own room, a silhouette illuminated only by the dim light of a few distant candles. He was looking at her, so she said:

"Yes?"

He was silent for some time, and she was about to say _'What is it?' _when he spoke again, louder.

"It's good to see you again."

The surprise almost made her jump. A thousand things she might say ran through her head, just as they had on the street in Peterny. It struck her that this was a chance to say something decent, a chance that she didn't even have to endure the potential humiliation of instigating, as she had last time. But the same thought stopped her again.

_Maybe if circumstances were different…_

Nel's first instinct was to simply say 'Good night' but that would have been rude. Too rude.

"Likewise." She said at last.

* * *

_And we have another chapter finished. Aside from a painful dialogue scene whose head I would still enjoy smashing between a couple of folding chairs, I came out happier with this one than I did with the ones before it, even though part of it got ERASED and I had to redo it. Of course, I can't judge my own work worth crap (I either think it's great, or that it's the worst thing ever put to 'paper', as I apparently don't understand the concept of 'in-between'), but there you have it. This is just my little ranting corner anyway. I don't really know what I'm trying to say. Bleh._

_Responses:_

_Sankontessou: Yes, I have every intention of finishing this. I don't really know how much that means, since I don't think any author with even a shred of decency starts a story thinking HAHA I'M NOT GOING TO FINISH THIS, but I still wanted to say that. The characters (specifically Nel) seem to be helping me along here, and every other story I've written with characters who have done that has gotten finished._

_Lily10: You have no idea how much it means to me to hear that. I'm paranoid about my portrayal of Nel. More paranoid about her than any other character in fact, and she's half the focus of the story. I hope I can continue to do it as well as I'd like._

_Lloyd (Irving) Aurion: Yes, I sort of thought that a little bit after uploading. Beforehand however, NOTHING could convince me that the entire thing wasn't necessary. It's a weird problem I have._

_Daedulas: I agree. Vanishing Point SHOULD get updated. I LOVE his portrayal of Nel. I understand time constraints though, so as long as endergabriel finishes it before I die, I won't complain too much._

_Pipp: Fayt/Nel + 1 with this, hopefully. I agree with the sentiments also. There is however, one thing to be thankful of: that you're not a proponent of Fayt/Mirage. There are at least two Fayt/Nel fics around here. I defy you (or anyone eles, including me) to find one with Fayt/Mirage. Anywhere._

_Broad, general statement directed at everyone: Thanks again for reviewing. I hope this didn't disappoint anyone._

_Next chapter: With everyone back in Aquios, the main storyline should begin to get rolling. Also, my first attempt at an action scene. Possible Lasselle POV (joy!), though I might use someone else if it looks like I'm using too many characters._


	4. The Black Wind

Sorry for the demonic delay. This actually only took me about a week to do, but personal problems made that week stretch out for WAY too long. Also, there's no action scene here, as I had planned, since it entailed a time-  
jump and a mood-change in the story that really didn't fit here. I'm pretty sure it will be in the next chapter though.

**Chapter Three **

**The Black Wind**

Fayt had been standing in the main hall of Castle Aquaria by himself for nearly fifteen minutes before Nel returned. And if truth be told, the fifteen minutes had felt more like fifteen hours to him, because he knew precisely what was going to happen next: he was going to have an audience with the Queen – there was really no other arrangement that could keep Nel this long, if she were as off-duty as she had claimed – and that was not something he was looking forward to. If he had an audience, the Queen was doubtless going to ask him what he was doing here, and he wasn't sure he could give her an answer to that.

When Nel finally did return, she confirmed his suspicions, and that made the walk to the second floor something of a misery. She noticed not far from the throne room.

"Is something the matter?" She asked him.

"Not really." He lied, and then gave in a second later, "Well, yeah, actually. I'm kind of nervous about this."

"Why?" She arched her brows. "It's not like you've never done this before. You know our Queen."

"I know. It's just..."

"Look," she interrupted, "just try to relax. There's no reason to be on edge. We're not going to arrest you or anything."

He wanted to say more, but her tone brooked no argument, and he had no choice but to simply follow her. Two guards outside the doors yanked them open at their approach, and there was a brief moment of remembrance as he followed his redheaded companion into the throne room, the brief echo of a clouded dream he had had nearly a month before

_(I have something for you)_

but it was gone again before he had even fully realized its presence, and then the door behind him closed and there was nothing but the Queen, Nel and the Magistrate. And the massive hall that encompassed them.

Fayt could not help but feel a little like a deer under a spotlight as he approached the throne. His stomach was roiling, full of butterflies, and his throat felt as though it might close up at any moment. And it was made worse by the way his boots echoed on the floor, something like gunshots in a narrow canyon, it seemed to him. He tried to step more softly, more like Nel, who walked in complete and utter silence in front of him, but the sounds didn't seem affected by that. It wasn't until he stepped on the ornate red carpet that rolled down from the foot of the stairs leading to the Queen's seat that the echoes finally allowed themselves to be muffled. He knew he shouldn't be feeling this nervous; at one point, this had almost been routine.

_But it is the first time I've come here alone._ Cliff had been with him the first time, Cliff, Maria and Mirage the second, and the crowd had only grown from there. Now, he was by himself, before royalty. And he felt foolish by himself, out of place. Somewhat, he imagined, like he might feel if his pants were to suddenly fall down in the middle of a crowded room that he couldn't leave. Nel was with him, but Nel was still an Aquarian, still an Elicoorian. She belonged in this place. What he needed was another _stranger._

_I wish Cliff was here._ He thought absently. Or Sophia, or Maria or Mirage. Or even his mother or one of his old college friends. Any of them would do, but it was Cliff he wished for the most. The big Klausian had known how to take the tension out of any situation. And that was a talent he could use right about now.

As soon as Nel reached the foot of the stairs, she dropped to one knee and inclined her head. The movement was smooth, practiced, graceful in a way, and Fayt was so caught up in his own thoughts that it was nearly two full seconds before he realized he was supposed to do the same. Hastily, he followed her lead. Minus the elegance, of course.

"Your Majesty." Nel said.

Fayt was too busy looking at the floor to see a response from the throne, but he still heard well enough. It was Lasselle that spoke first.

"Him again." He said, his voice thick and tired with disdain. He also sounded surprised, strangely enough, the statement half sounding like a question.

_As if you didn't already know I was back._ He thought bitterly. The Queen was more courteous. She even gave him an honorific. He hadn't expected that.

"Welcome back, Master Fayt."

His tongue seemed to instantly grow thick in his mouth when he tried to reply. For a minute he thought he was going to choke on it, choke to_ death_ on it even, but finally, he managed to say:

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

There was a silence then, awkward, before the question he had been dreading came out.

"So." The Queen asked kindly, "Might I ask what brings you back to our planet?"

"And more importantly, when you'll be leaving?" Lasselle added. Ordinarily, his comment would have irritated or offended him, but at that moment Fayt thought he could almost kiss the man for his insolence. Because in truth, Fayt really had no answer to her question and Lasselle gave him a distraction. As usual, the Queen checked him.

"Quiet, Lasselle." She said. She said that a lot, it seemed to him. So much so, that he often wondered why she kept him in the throne room at all. A good seventy-five percent of the dialogue he had seen shared with him seemed to consist of her telling him to shut up.

Fayt tried to use the moment to come up with a convincing lie, but he was still drawing a blank when the matter was settled, and the Queen spoke to him again.

"I must apologize for his outburst. You were saying?"

He didn't answer. The only response that came to mind was 'Uh…', and he didn't think that was what anyone was looking for.

"_Your…reason…for…being…here_." Lasselle said impatiently, speaking loudly and slowly, punctuating each word with several seconds of silence, as if Fayt were simply some thickheaded fool who had not understood the question.

"Aah…" he began dumbly, his mind desperate and racing for an answer. _What? What do I say? What do I tell her? That I came back because I was bored? Because I liked Elicoor? Because I wanted to see my friends? What? Because of a few stupid dreams I had? Because…because… _Unconsciously, he looked at Nel out of the corner of his eye, kneeling there beside him. "…I don't have one, really. Honestly."

He looked up then, briefly, hoping the blush that suddenly rose into his cheeks would lend him some credibility. The Queen said nothing - he didn't know what to make of that - but the Magistrate didn't seem satisfied.

"So you're saying there's _not_ something terrible chasing after you this time? Why do I find that difficult to believe?"

"Uh, I…I don't know." Fayt answered meekly. Then an idea struck him. Lasselle was trying to cow him; his father had often done the same thing when he was convinced that Fayt was lying to him about something. And Fayt had eventually learned the secret to getting around his father's accusations: back-talking him. "Why _do _you find that difficult to believe?"

Fayt thought he heard a gasp, although there was a good chance it had merely been his imagination. At any rate, there was no response from above him, just as he had hoped. Lasselle's question had been rhetorical. No one expected someone to fling a rhetorical question back at them, and someone with Lasselle's authority would expect it even less, so Fayt imagined that he had managed to distract the man for the nonce.

"I…_I'll_ tell you why I find that difficult to believe"

"Lasselle, be silent." The Queen cut him off sharply, amidst a thought of '_There it is again'_ from Fayt. Then she addressed him once more. "Then you are saying that there _is_ no reason for your being here?"

_Well, when you say it like that…_ "Um, no Your Majesty." Momentarily, he wondered if she was going to tell him to leave the planet. She really didn't seem like the type to do that, but after giving her such an asinine explanation for being here, you could never be sure.

"Nonetheless," she said at last, "I suppose it is fortuitous for us that you have come, regardless of your motivations."

"Fortuitous?" That was Lasselle, sounding as indignant as always. "I call it foreboding, Your Majesty. These problems in Peterny, and now _he _shows up…"

Finally, Nel spoke. "The issue with Peterny was going on for nearly a month before he even arrived, Magistrate."

"So was the Vile Wind," Lasselle said quickly, "but we eventually traced _that_ back to him."

"This isn't the Vile Wind"

"And it isn't normal either. This is no ordinary merchant rebellion. Things are…things are too _secretive_. I have nearly seven hundred hirelings in that city, and not _one_ of them can tell me anything useful about what's happening. What are the odds of that?"

"Fayt." the Queen said, bulling over their exchange, "It distresses me to ask this of you, but may we count on your help once again?"

That spotlight flashed on again, just as he had been beginning to ease up. "How could I possibly help, Your Majesty?"

"As I am sure you have heard, we are experiencing certain difficulties in Peterny right now. We…you _have _heard about this, correct?"

"Yes, Your Majesty." Nel had said a few things about it on the road.

"Much of the court knows about it, but we have given it out that the problem is relatively minor. This you may have heard. Merchant rebellions are not unprecedented here in Aquaria. We had another nine years ago, that resulted in only one open battle, with no lives lost. However…" the Queen trailed off.

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

"However," she continued, "the truth is that the problem we are facing now is _not_ minor. As Lasselle has said, despite our vast information network within the city, we have almost no information about it at all. This is very worrisome. Lasselle has pointed out that the manner in which the plot has been so expertly hidden suggests that someone with a position of authority here at court may be aiding it, and it gives us no hint of the size or scope of the dilemma. Or even of its nature. If the problem were political, we might be able to take measures against it, and if the problem were military, we would simply appeal to Airyglyph for aid. I have suggested doing this anyway, but many have counseled me that it would be unwise to reveal weakness to them when we are still unsure of the problem ourselves. This is where we hope to enlist facilitation from you.

"By now, you must be aware of your standing within our country. You have become an integral part of our current generation's history, and since your disappearance, a cornerstone of Aquarian lore. Your reputation transcends all social and military borders, to the point that your name carries more weight than word of a military invasion."

_Praise._ Fayt thought dumbly. He knew the words were meant to gratify him, but the only thing he got out of them was a growing sense of discomfort. He didn't feel like much of a cornerstone of anything, kneeling there; no more than he had the first time he had done it. If he had been in a chair, he would have tried to squirm into it. As it was, he couldn't even do that. _I hope she stops soon._

He had not heard the Queen rise from the throne, or begin to descend the stairs, so when he felt soft hands suddenly envelop his, only luck kept him from jumping right out of his skin. Once again, he had been so preoccupied with himself that he had lost sense of what was happening around him. The Queen had come down the steps, and was now on her knees in front of him, at a level with him, her trailing robes giving her the appearance of an immense, squat size. Her hands held his between them, somehow both authoritative and pleading at the same time. Such a show was just about the highest honor she could give to someone below her station, he knew. And that knowledge did nothing to alleviate his discomfort. Fayt wondered how Lasselle was taking this; he would have looked to find out, but the Queen's eyes were staring directly into his, and he was sure he would be breaking some sacred rule of conduct if he looked elsewhere at a time like that. She had done this on his first visit, Fayt recalled, when she had asked for his help in the war against Airyglyph. But the gesture had only been momentary then. This time she took the time to speak to him.

"Three times so far you have saved Aquaria from destruction. Though it may be presumptuous to refer to this latest situation as such, I implore you to do so one last time." With her so close, it took some effort on his part to restrain himself from cringing back. He could even smell her breath. It smelled like flowers. He had no idea how she had managed _that_. "I do not believe we will require you to perform any deeds of service for us this time, so you would not need to concern yourself with that possibility. It is merely your reputation that we wish to use. If the merchants are the root of the problem, then whatever end it is they are working toward should not be difficult to discourage if we make it known that you have returned to handle the matter. Merchants are cautious and indolent by nature, and it is not likely that they will be willing to risk a confrontation with you by continuing in their pursuits."

_Three times, my foot._ He thought. _Why do they credit _me_ with it?_ People always seemed to want to do that, especially on Elicoor, and it made him feel guilty. Cliff and Nel had both been with him from start to finish, yet they received almost no mention at all in the stories he heard. Nel was even an Aquarian, famous; she should have overshadowed him, but the tales portrayed her as nothing but one of his cronies (although none had the gall to actually use that term), and they portrayed the others in much the same way. The people who had made those stories would have been shocked to know how little he had really done.

It seemed to him that he should be disagreeing somehow, so he said:

"I doubt I scare anyone that much, Your Majesty."

"You should not." The Queen stood. He was about to feel relieved until he realized she still had his hand and was pulling him up with her. "Your services have made you a paragon of ideals for the people of Aquaria. Anyone with ill in their hearts cannot help but fear you." At last, she let go of him. "Will you help us?"

_How am I supposed to say no?_ Fayt wondered. "I…yes, Your Majesty. If I can."

"Then we are in your debt once again."

_Why, if all you want to use is my reputation?_ He wanted to say, but didn't. He was not looking at Magistrate Lasselle, but he could _feel_ the indignation in the room gathering around him as he prepared to say something. However, Nel spoke up first.

"With all due respect, Your Majesty," she said, "if you're going to employ Fayt, won't he _have_ to do something? I don't think any number of rumors will convince anyone that he's here to handle our problems if all he does is sit around in the castle."

"She's right, Your Majesty." Lasselle piped up quickly. "We should send him back to Peterny."

"I am aware of that," the Queen replied, addressing Nel and seeming to ignore Lasselle altogether, "yet simple mention of him will serve to afford us time sufficient to deal with such matters. There is no rush to move just yet." She looked back to him. "So do not worry. I meant what I said when I told you that we would not require you to fight for us." Nodding to him, she ascended the stairs once again, toward the throne.

"For now," she said when she was seated, "you may do as you wish here in the castle. You are our guest. I would suggest resting, as I know that you have come far." There was a pause. "The same goes for you as well, Lady Nel."

Fayt couldn't help the tiny smirk that came to his lips when the Queen said that, because he already knew there was a protest coming, already heard it in his mind.

"Your Majesty," Nel said gravely, "with Fayt here, circumstances have changed. If he is going to be in service, I–"

"He will not be in service until your leave has ended, if that is what you are concerned about. It will take at least that long for our rumors to take full effect, and I am greatly concerned about your well-being. We put you on leave because you were working too much. I made an exception simply by allowing you to escort Master Fayt from Peterny, so I will _insist_ that you make up that time with the eleven days you have remaining."

"But Y–"

"Actually," the Queen said, "since you insist on raising the issue, I might be persuaded to give you _another_ month's leave. The Kingdom will endure without you, I am rather certain, especially now that Fayt is here. He can work with Lady Clair."

"I–"

"Unless you would prefer to simply take the remainder of your leave, with no objections?"

When Nel replied, her voice was curt and cold, "Yes...Your Majesty." She said.

_Well, at least she hasn't changed much._ He thought. The thought had been in good humor, but somehow it soured in his brain.

"Then you are dismissed." The Queen said warmly, as if she did not hear the chill in her agent's voice. "Both of you. Try to take advantage of times like this, Nel. You cannot live only for work. People who do that die very young." She stopped for a moment, as if hesitant, and then continued, "You are the third generation of Zelpher that I have known. I have no wish to see a fourth in your shoes."

"I...Yes, Your Majesty. I'll keep that in mind." She replied in a tone that – at least to Fayt – suggested that in actuality she would discard it the moment she left the throne room.

"Then you may go."

Nel rose to leave first. Fayt followed her.

Outside, she seemed to soften again immediately – well, 'soften' as much as Nel ever did. He had been certain that the Queen's rebuke would have left her sour, but she seemed no different than she always was.

"I'm sorry for getting you into this again." She said to him apologetically, after the doors had closed behind them.

"What are you sorry for? From what you told me, it was an inevitability from the moment I set foot on this planet."

"To be involved in our problems? No..." She shook her head, "No, that's just politics, and you're a scapegoat. There's no real reason to impress you into service."

That tripped something in his mind; he remembered an older moment, one that felt like it had happened lifetimes ago – something she had said in the first real conversation they had ever had

_(If that means we must force uncooperative people into submission, then so be it)_

and he thought: _Maybe she has changed._

"Even so, how is that your fault? It's not like it was your choice, right?"

"No, but still...you may have to fight. Are you really ready to do that again? To take up a sword and defend Aquaria?"

"The Queen didn't seem to think I would need to."

"Her Majesty," said Nel, "may not know as much as she thinks." When Fayt looked at her, she shook her head again and became suddenly defensive. "I'm not saying she's stupid. It's just that I...I don't think Lasselle would tell her the true scope of a problem if it was really that serious. Even our Queen has her limits. And the way even _she_ talked...it..."

"What?" He prompted.

"She said that nothing would be done with you until my duties had been restored, right? But why? What is it that I could lend to a mission of spreading _rumors_ that any agent in Aquaria couldn't do?" She shifted. "I have a reputation too, but this 'conspiracy' has been going on independently of me for some time now. Adding my name to the roster isn't going to stop it, if it hasn't already. So why, unless she thought it was going to come to battle? Clair is better with a sword than I am, but it was you and I that fought together, so it would be natural that I would make the best partner for you, right?" Nel stopped and shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe I'm just being paranoid. Maybe she's only trying to make sure that you have a friend around when you start working for us. Maybe it _is_ completely innocent...but someone in my line of works has certain instincts, and my instincts are telling me that I'm _not_ paranoid, that there's something that _somebody_ isn't saying. I was telling you the truth in Peterny. I didn't like that city. There's something different about it, something that doesn't feel right. If you're sent back there...I don't think you'll be able to _help_ but fight, no matter how optimistic Her Majesty might be, and I...I don't want you going without understanding that."

He considered for a moment telling her that that was precisely why he had come back.

Is _that why I came back? _He thought. That had entered into his mind more than once when he had thought about reasoning, but it seemed so barbaric when he articulated it to himself. He didn't _know_ why he had come back, in truth. He hadn't been lying to the Queen when he had told her that. There was a thousand reasons it seemed, all jumbled together until none of them made sense.

"Don't worry about me." He said at last. "I can take care of myself."

Nel made no reply, save with her eyes. He had thought his words adequate; good, safe middle ground, but her eyes said that they were not what she had wanted to hear. _Then what _did_ she want to hear?_ He wondered, but he had no idea. He couldn't think of anything more appropriate that he might have said instead. Maybe it was just the Queen's criticism of her finally sinking in.

"I hope so." She said after an eternity, after they had already begun walking away from the throne room. She sounded doubtful. "I really hope so."

_That_ almost made him angry. He thought about saying something back – something about the virtue of not trusting him, even after all this time – but he stopped himself before he opened his mouth. He wasn't quite sure why. It just seemed wrong.

There were servants waiting in the second floor's main hall, clustered around the balcony overlooking the waterfall that fell into the Chapel. One of them, a short, slight girl with a pale complexion who could not have been more than fourteen, bowed to Fayt and offered to take him to his quarters.

"I'll show him the way." Nel said to her.

Fayt had expected to be led to the same place he had stayed last time, but Nel stopped a ways before they reached it, and gestured him to a different door.

"These used to be Rozaria's quarters," she told him, "but she doesn't live here anymore. They're bigger and more well-furbished than the guest rooms, and we don't have anyone else to occupy them. Her Majesty thought it would be more fitting if you used these instead." She shrugged. "You can still stay in the guest wing if you like, but you should know that you'll be sharing it with Adray."

"I'll stay here." He said immediately. It wasn't that he didn't _like_ Adray, it was just that...well...

"I figured you would." She smiled. "Still, I'd expect a visit from him. He wanted to go to Peterny with me to get you, but the Queen and Magistrate Lasselle didn't think he could keep the secret well enough, so they told him to stay here. In retrospect, I guess I don't really know what the point of that was, but...anyway, he said that he had some important things to discuss with you."

After a few seconds of silence, she continued.

"Well, I'll leave you to get settled in for the moment. We haven't exactly gotten rid of Rozaria's furniture yet, so it might take some getting used to. You know what to do if you need something and...feel free to come by my quarters if you like. You heard Her Majesty yourself, I don't really have anything to do for the next week or so." That last bit sounded grudging, although whether or not it was the offer or the fact that she had no work to do that irked her, he didn't know.

"Alright..." He said, a bit uncertainly. "Thanks."

She seemed to shrug that off. "You don't need to thank me." After a moment, she started to move away, but she had only taken a few steps when she turned back again. "One more thing..."

"Yes?"

"I don't know why you came," Nel said, so severely that, until she continued, he thought she was accusing him, "but I'm glad you're back."

"I'm glad to be here." He replied easily, but was he thought was: _Really?_

In his room – which struck him immediately as being far too white – he sat down in one of the chairs and thought. She had said that she was glad he was back. _But she hasn't really been acting that way._ She had been friendly enough, he supposed, especially when you considered her usual demeanor, but...but there was something about it that he couldn't quite put his finger on. It was as if she were glad that he was back simply because of the work it entailed. They had talked a lot on the way to Aquios, but she didn't truly seem all that interested in spending any time with him besides that, if the way she had sounded when she offered had been any indication. Then again, maybe he was being too hard on her. She wasn't exactly what one would call 'expressive', so expecting it of her would be sort of unreasonable, wouldn't it? It would be like expecting Albel to sing. Nel did things in her own way, and he had gotten used to that (or at least thought he had) a long time ago. It was just different now, stranger, with him alone and essentially without any purpose for being here. It made him feel oddly self-conscious.

_Did I make the right choice by coming back here?_

He couldn't help but wonder.

* * *

_I'd do my customary picking-apart of the dynamics of my story at the end of this chapter like I've done with all the ones before, but I'm really trying to cut that stuff down. I'll just settle for saying that, while this may not have been the most interesting thing I've ever produced, it's completely necessary to the story._

_Responses:_

_Daedulas: As to the first question, yes. Pretty soon. As to the second, I sort of intended that she _had_ been improving. Coming to see Fayt only would have worsened her a little bit. Fatigue goes away pretty quickly with some rest, but the physical signs are generally more stubborn (trust me, I know...I still have bags under_ my _eyes from being deprived of sleep for a few days earlier this month). I sort of suggested it in the way that Nel was thinking so much clearer than usual, but I guess I might have stated that a little better though, looking back. Sorry._

_endergabriel:__Actually, the thought of whether or not I'm copying _you _plagues me pretty often. I sort of brood over any similarities between our two stories, which ends up kind of senseless since, by premise alone, there are BOUND to be similarities. As to the C2...I actually think Fayt/Nel has enough fans to make it work. It would be a great idea if I had any clue about how to go about doing it. (Yeah, I'm pathetic, I know.)_

_Jarock16: Happy Birthday...ish. I had actually hoped to get this out a lot sooner, so that it could just be called 'belated'. As it is, I think I'm well into the running for wishing you a Happy Birthday NEXT year,_

_Lloyd (Irving) Aurion: One question was sort of answered in the response to Daedulas. As to my embellishment of Fayt/Nel, probably next chapter, since the storyline is now pretty much set, and I won't have to juggle its establishment quite so much. And lo, I didn't do the Lasselle POV. He sort of interests me by virtue of the fact that everyone in the world hates his guts, but this chapter ended up completely Fayt-centric._

_James Ray Edwards: I'm glad you like it. One note though: If anyone is reading this more or less solely out of hopes that Albel is going to be in it...I'd stop, actually. He's probably not going to show. There's a CHANCE, of course, since this story will dance pretty close to grounds for an Albel appearance, and my characters _love_ to pull unexpected crap on me, but it really is doubtful; I won't lie to anyone. On a semi-related note however, I DO want to write something for Albel. I had been in the process of a short story featuring him, but it...ended up proving to me that it wasn't going to be that short, and I can't juggle two (or lack of a better word) novelettes at once. When DW finishes, I'll probably start on it._

_Everyone: As usual, thanks for the reviews. Nothing encourages me more than feedback. And once again, sorry that this thing is so bloody late._

_Next chapter: With the foundation of the story now in place, look for the real Fayt/Nel development to begin next chapter. Also, keep an eye peeled for the-action-scene-that-didn't-fit. And no, I don't plan to keep stressy-Fayt for that long, in case anyone is wondering._


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